


Only Get What You Give

by jazzypizzaz



Series: can't buy me love [5]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Culture, Ferengi, Gift Giving, Happy Ending, Insecurity, Jealousy, M/M, Shame, Shapeshifting, Space Poly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:34:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6945913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzypizzaz/pseuds/jazzypizzaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Insecure about his value, Quark tries to give Odo presents as bribes for love.  It backfires.</p><p>“How do you know if you’re getting the better deal out of a sexual partnership?  If they’re getting more out of using you or the other way around?” <br/>“Sex isn't about deals or profit margins, it's not a business practice Quark.”<br/>“Life is a just a series of transactions, Ezri, and all relationships are based on exchange of services...or else you've learned nothing about Ferengi from knowing me by now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The next few days, Quark spends giddy, his heart light and bubbling with joy.  Overnight, all his problems seem to evaporate with the sunshine of his mood.  Visiting the Orions in their holding cell goes better than expected.  He promises them a round of free drinks the next time they come to the station, apologizes to the female, and the males laugh off the events of the night before with him; it seems they were so impressed with Ezri’s fighting skills they don’t hold his flirtations against him.  (Any man with such a scary female friend probably learns his lesson, they assume, and anyway they’re happy to have a good story to bring home.)  Ezri is still mad at him, but she was able to reschedule her date with Kira and doesn’t have any interest in holding a grudge forever; Quark invites her to tongo, the first time Dax has been back since joining, and she manages to hold her own against the Ferengi, which also helps get Quark back on her good side.

At the bar itself, the Ferengi waiters look at him funny while he hums and dances between slinging drinks, but know better than to say anything.  The dabo girls start off sullen with him, but he pays off Aluura and charms the rest of them until they’re laughing along with his jokes in spite of themselves; some even flirt back good-naturedly, and he soaks up the attention.  Customers who would normally eat at Nebula or relax in their quarters find themselves drawn to the bar, Quark’s reverie shining a glow over the place.

If Quark were on Ferenginar, he would expect the weather outside to be that particular light drizzly kind of rainy where a few errant sunrays filter through the clouds, and all the juiciest slugs poke their heads out ripe for the plucking.  (There isn’t a word for this in Federation Standard, but there is in Ferengi.)  It’s the type of rain that means possibility, where everything sparkles and your belly anticipates a good meal.

Odo does his normal checking in on him several times a day at random intervals.  Their interactions are the same as ever-- Odo coming up with a petty excuse to suspect him of devious doings, Quark pretending to be outraged at the accusations-- but for Quark they’re tinged with a new exhilaration.  Odo can’t go more than three hours without stopping by to interrogate him about whatever minor theft or scuffle comprises his security duties of the day.  Either Odo values that he has useful information for his investigations (sometimes true), or Odo is being protective making sure Quark doesn’t get in over his head (his hero!)... or Odo simply enjoys his company and likes to see him.  

Whatever the reason (all three he hopes), Quark basks in the heightened surveillance like a celebrity.  Every now and then he can even convince Odo to steal away with him for a few private moments:

“Sounds like sensitive information you’re after, and I don’t know if I trust Morn not to overhear.  Why don’t I tell you in my back storage room?”

“Hrrmph.  If you insist.”

“Okay now that we’re here, let me think… Nope, turns out I don’t know anything about the Lissepian’s missing shipment of vibrating bolt rods.  Sounds like a good time though.”

“Then why did you drag me back here if--- mmph--”

Quark only has to meet his lips to Odo’s for Odo to take charge and hoist him up on a rack-- smooth lips working Quark into a tizzy, sometimes unbuttoning his shirt to press against his bare upper chest, liquid hands buzzing with excitement and stroking his lobes until they throb with need.    

It never goes quite as far as Quark would like it to or as long.  Odo continually breaks away from kissing to interrogate him about whatever security pretense brought him over to Quark’s in the first place-- and Quark has to stay on his toes to dance around the questions without being distracted in the heat of the moment.  Quark finds the interruptions exasperating (and, he tries not to think too much about the fact that Odo might be making out with him as a new security technique), but it’s also a bit thrilling so he can’t complain too much.

The more immediate problem is that they also end up with little time for lingering-- Broik knocks with an urgent need for a case of eelwasser from the top rack, Odo is comm’d away to investigate an Edosian with a suspicious suitcase... Or, once, Odo stops abruptly right before Quark comes with a curt “I allowed only 15 minutes for our encounter and am now 2 minutes late to go over afternoon crime reports with Kira.  If you’ll excuse me.”  

No matter the interruption, Quark casts around for reasons to meet up with Odo later:  “I’m trying my hand at a new specialty dish for the bar tonight, you should have dinner with me.”

“You mean to use up the ten cases of taspar eggs you accidentally traded for yesterday?  I don’t eat, and even if I did I wouldn’t eat whatever creative concoction with that you attempt to pass off on your customers.”

“Or… I could show you around a new holonovel I’m testing out.  Vulcan Love Slave: The Lovening promises to be even more titillating than--”

“I will come by later, as usual, to ensure you aren’t cheating people at the dabo table.”

Then Odo leaves, and, ears tingling, Quark spends the rest of the day fantasizing about Odo-- his goo hands, the concentration in his eyes when he’s performing oo-mox, the way his lips shape and shift underneath his, how his ears never have quite the same shape each day-- before Quark is able to finish himself off alone in his room at night, the anticipation throughout the day making up for the unsettling need to have Odo in his bed again, holding him.  

\-----------

If, despite his general giddiness, Quark’s heart still feels like it’s a few bars of latinum short of a fortune, well, that’s nothing new; it’s not like he’s ever been completely satisfied with anything in his life, or had anything close to an actual fortune.  “Greed is eternal” after all, such is the life of a Ferengi to be always seeking more. For once it does feel like he finally beat the odds and won a minor gamble, however, so he’s far from wanting to complain.  Yet.

It’s evening, almost a week after having Odo in his bed, and Quark [ hums a little ditty ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C1AHec7sfZ8) by that Frank fellow Vic Fontaine digs so much as he readies a platter of drinks for a table.  It’s not that he enjoys hu-man music, but something about it makes him smile. (It reminds him of Odo ordering him a drink and singing to him, _to him_ , and kissing him back and and--)

“One BLT and a root beer float please!”  Rom sings out to Quark.  “The B staaands for bacon, the L staaands for lettuce--”

“I know what it stands for!  You are going to kill yourself eating this hu-man garbage.  What’s wrong with a nice healthy order of tube grubs?  And putting even more sweet crud in root beer, it’s sickening!”  Quark brings the so-called food to Rom, as usual not actually expecting Rom to listen to this long-standing disagreement.

“I like it!  Thank you brother,” Rom says, drawing out the word brother like he does every time, like if he didn’t emphasize the word Quark would forget they were related.  Quark wished he could sometimes (it would save him worrying about how Rom’s diet will affect his health at the very least, not that he would admit this is his real concern).

But even fretting about Rom’s assimilation into Federation culture doesn’t quite damper his mood, and Quark resumes the humming, head bopping back and forth, as he continues preparing drinks for the waiters to take out to tables.

“Wow brother, you’ve been in such a great mood recently!  I’m sooo happy you’re not still upset about everyone laughing at your singing or being told you’re funny looking or getting punched in the face or being arrested or accidentally buying too much Cardassian food no one will eat or the Orion Syndicate--”

“Oh pah, that’s all old news, this is today!  It doesn’t even matter!  You know why?”  Quark raises his eyebrows conspiratorially, and Rom leans in intrigued, but Quark’s ears pick up the dulcet tones of a certain growly voice and when he looks up to find its owner, he can’t pick him out of the crowd.  

Rom waits for the answer, confused.  “Uuuuhh why?  You know I’m not good at riddles.”

Quark shrugs and breaks out in a grin.  “I don’t know why!  Sometimes you can hear the beautiful clink of gold-pressed latinum over the sound of the pounding rain, even if you can’t see it yet.”  

Rom considers.  “I don’t remember that Rule.”  But Quark doesn’t elaborate, as he has now spotted Odo leading Colonel Kira to a table.  As Quark watches, distracted, the thick tulaberry wine he’s pouring fills past the brim of the cup and overflows onto his hands.  Startled, he frantically mops it up, knocking over the glass and creating more mess.  

Rom glances back and forth between his brother and the couple across the room.

“Brother, I know why, you’re in love!”  Rom says the last part in a sing-song tone.

“What!?  Of course not,” Quark squawks, still distracted by his mess.  He pauses glancing between Rom, staring at him with a sappy smile on his face, and across the room to Odo.  The corner of his mouth twitches upwards.  “Well, maybe.”

“The way you’re looking at the Constable that’s how I would watch Leeta, when I still worked here and I would knock over glasses all the time--”

“Oh is _that_ why, maybe I should fine Leeta for distracting my waiter--” Quark mutters, licking wine off his hands.  Waste not, want not.  The wine burns his tongue, and the heat warms his insides, just like when Odo held him as he drifted off to sleep...

Rom continues as if Quark said nothing.  “She would lean over the dabo tables, and sometimes I would catch her eye while she was laughing with a customer…”  Rom babbles dreamily.

Quark snaps out of his own daydreams long enough to roll his eyes at Rom.  “It’s nothing like you and Leeta.  Do you realize what this means for me?  Rule number 113, always have sex with the boss… or whoever.”  Quark waves his hand vaguely.  “The point is, a Constable in love is a Constable distracted and willing to overlook certain… profitable endeavors his lover attempts.”

“You’re in LOVE and you had SEX--”  Rom says, overly loud, and Quark scrambles across the bar to cover his mouth.  Rom bats him away and whispers, “Theeeen why does he look at Kira like you look at him?”

Quark rolls his eyes.  “It’s sex.  We’re not in a contract, Rom.  Grow up.”  

“Buuut you said you’re in love with him.”

“I said _he’s_ in love.”

Over at their table, Kira is laughing and clutching Odo’s arm, then her smile softens and she moves her hand down to hold his.  Odo’s face is root beer levels of disgustingly sweet.  Quark doesn’t feel like singing Frank Sinatra anymore.

Is Quark only useful to Odo for the sex?  Quark should be okay with that arrangement, since it’s a fair exchange of physical sensations and, like he told Rom, it’s not like they’re in a contract.  Quark probably even gets the more favorable profit margin of pleasure out of it, since Odo doesn’t have “urges” or whatever.  But Odo already has Kira to have sex with, so what does he need Quark for?  Is it only because Kira goes off with Dax sometimes?  Maybe Quark is a last resort, sloppy seconds, maybe Kira suggested Odo seduce him so that Odo wouldn’t be lonely without her...  

(Surely it’s not a plan for Odo to get him to let down his guard, a conspiracy for Odo to crack all his schemes.  Quark certainly won’t miss out on profits to spare Odo’s misguided thirst for justice...)

What happens when Odo meets some other delicate-lobed female on the station, willing to consistently expose all her skin for Odo?  What does Quark offer Odo that someone else couldn’t?  

Besides being a worthy adversary, but that doesn’t have to involve oo-mox.  

(Unless after almost a decade, Odo has decided that oo-mox is the only way to finally shut down Quark’s less-than-legal endeavors.  But that would be awfully Cardassian for such a dogged, straightforward investigator, wouldn’t it?)  

Quark can’t come up with any satisfactory answers.

(Not any answers he wants to consider further.)

His brow furrowed, he loads the drinks he’s been preparing onto the platter, in addition to an extra springwine, and makes the rounds, stopping at Kira and Odo’s table last.

“Good evening, Colonel.  A fresh springwine?  For the lovely lady?” Then to Odo: “Your usual I presume, nothing.”

“Quark, I didn’t order a springwine yet,” Kira says amused.

“I make a point to anticipate my customers’ needs.  What brings you lovely couple together on a fine night like this?  Any interest in trying pickled taspar eggs for your dinner?”  Quark says, his voice saccharine sweet.  “I hear they’re an aphrodisiac.”

“Quark,” Odo says, in a warning tone.

“What, a bartender isn’t allowed to tend to his guests?  I’m just checking in, making sure all your needs are met.”

Kira reaches out to pat Odo on the shoulder.  “It’s fine.  Quark, we were just celebrating, well, Odo took me here to celebrate my birthday.”

“ _Your birthday_ ,” says Quark, genuinely surprised.  “I didn’t know you had a birthday!  We could have planned a party, I would have catered.”

“I don’t tell anyone my birthday, Quark, no need to make a big deal out of it.  Odo figured it out himself, so… here we are!”  Kira says, and Quark feels a twinge in his stomach at the thought of Odo paying such careful attention to Kira.

“I simply noticed that for the past six years you perform the Siphpatha candle-lighting ritual on the same date according to how years are calculated on the Bajoran calendar, so converting that to Federation stardates--”

“Well that’s a bit creepy.” Quark smiles at Kira, all teeth.  “Stalking your every movement, is that what passes for love these days?”

“You tell me Quark,” Kira says, her voice light but her eyes flashing at him.  She turns back to Odo, smiling.  “Personally I think it’s sweet.  I never had a chance to celebrate birthdays growing up, and once the Occupation was over, it still seemed frivolous, something for children.  But--” Kira says, holding Odo’s hand tight, “it’s nice to know someone you care about is thinking about you.”

“Well if he didn’t throw you a party, did he at least give you a present?”

Odo makes a sound that is meant to approximate a humanoid clearing their throat.  “As a matter of fact he did, I was about to give it to you before our bartender so rudely interrupted.”  He gives Quark a sharp look and reaches out beneath the table to put a small slim box on the table.  “It’s a holosuite program of the nature preserve in the Hedrikspool Province, for when you’re homesick for Bajor and don’t have time to make it planetside.”

“What a bunch of trees and rocks?  That’s a terrible present.”  Quark says, face scrunched in disgust.  “I could help find--”

“ _Thank_ you Odo, this is very thoughtful.”  Kira kisses Odo’s hand, smiling.  “Did you want something else Quark?”  

“Tell Odo that his ears are lopsided today, he never believes me.  And your springwine is on the house.  Happy birthday.”  Quark sets the drink down without ceremony, while Kira scrutinizes Odo’s ears, and stalks away without looking back, small emptiness gnawing at his heart.

\------

“Did you know it was Kira’s birthday yesterday?”  Quark says to Ezri, handing her an order of hasperat.

“What!  I didn’t know she didn’t tell me oh gosh was I supposed to know?  What do you think she wants as a present?  She’s not really the surprise type and wait what if she didn’t want anyone to know--?”  Ezri babbles, mile a minute.

“Odo took her to dinner at the bar--”

“Dinner at your bar?  That’s not a big deal then, probably she doesn’t want a fuss--”

“So the only way you could top that is to let me cater a surprise party--”

“I don’t need to top anything, it’s not a competition.”

“...so Kira tops you then?  Good to know…”

”That’s not-- shut up.  Also I said that Nerys _doesn’t_ like surprises.”

“Fine fine,” Quark says, holding up his hand so Ezri doesn’t interrupt again. “What you need to do is play it cool, don’t make a big deal… Until she walks into the darkened room, then TA-DA! we all shout surprise and there’s streamers everywhere and strippers and a giant taspar egg custard made by me with whatever special Bajoran candles on top, I can picture it--”

Ezri makes a face at him.  “Do you know how many birthdays I’ve had?  More than the twenty-two I actually experienced firsthand.  And I know how at least ten different cultures celebrate birthdays, but none of them do it like that.  Uugh I’m not even sure I remember what date _my_ birthday is.  Three months from now probably?  Or was that Tobin’s?”

“ _Fine_ if you don’t like my ideas just say so.  Here, drink this.”

Ezri gulps at what he hands her, does a double take when she realizes she doesn’t know what it is, then another double take when she realizes she actually likes it.  “Huh, cheers!”

“It’s kanar mixed with rootbeer; I'm trying to get rid of it.  Anyway, forget how many cultures you know about, and focus on Kira as one boring person, who apparently doesn’t like surprises.”

“Hey, that’s good advice,” Ezri says, surprised.  “Almost.”

“I always give great advice,” Quark says, offended.  She quirks an eyebrow at him and continues sipping at the kanar mix.  

Quark takes a few more orders down the bar, then turns back to her, faking nonchalance.  “Aren’t you… jealous?  That Odo knew before you and that he beat you to celebrating with her?”

Ezri narrows her eyes at him.  “Nooo… Why would I?  Odo and Nerys will always be close, that doesn’t affect how she feels about me.  This way I figure I get to reap the benefit of Odo doing the boring investigation work, while I come up with a cool fun gift he would never think of.”

“If you say so…”

“You know who else has never celebrated a birthday here is Odo… Does he even have one?”

“He wasn’t born, I think, just extracted from the giant puddle of goo on his weird rock planet.  But he probably doesn’t even know when that was.  Do changelings celebrate extraction dates?”

“Huh.  I bet no one has thought about him having a birthday or not before.”

“Probably,” Quark says noncommittally, as he starts considering presents he could procure for Odo.  As a businessman, he likes to think he has a talent for knowing what people want before they do.  What better way to show how valuable Quark could be to Odo?


	2. Chapter 2

Quark assess the large plant in front of him. (Rule #218, Always know what you're buying…) It has the signature fleshy half-moon-shaped leaves, rippled and reminiscent of Ferengi lobes, offset along long stems. It also has a healthy number of fanged pods nestled beneath the thicket of leaves, ready to snap at any beetles that have the misfortune to scuttle nearby. For the most part it does seem to be the Lob-plink-lap (Lobelular Beetle Snatcher, as it’s called in Standard) carnivorous fern native to Ferenginar that he was promised. He squeezes one of the leaves gently, and it exudes an oily substance onto his fingertips. He sniffs it skeptically, not sure if that’s normal. Nature is gross, but at least this one is Ferengi, and Odo seemed to think plants were a good gift for Kira, so...

The Lob-plink-lap normally don’t travel well, and aren’t common offplanet, but the Idanian trader he procured it from assured him she had bought it from a Lissepian who bought it from a talented Romulan botanist who had taken a special interest in Ferengi horticulture and engineered a heartier strain. As unlikely as that scenario was to be true, Quark figured the risk was worth it since he was unlikely to come across another one any time soon. He didn’t even have to spend extra latinum on it, since he finagled a trade for the last cases of taspar eggs. Really the situation was win-win.

With a grunt, he picks it up, along with a bag containing a water spritzer (to simulate rain) and a jar of fresh beetles, and makes his way up to Odo’s quarters and breaks in. He eyes with concern the corner with Odo’s bucket, which is acting as a vase for a bouquet of fresh cut flowers, then sets his plant in an empty space across the room. Odo is inspecting an outgoing cargo shipment on the other side of the station, so shouldn’t be back any time soon.

Quark pulls a scrap of colorful paper out of his pocket with a grimace. He wants Odo to know the gift is from him, but if Odo thinks it’s silly or a poor competitor to bucket flowers he wants plausible deniability. His heart pounding a little, he scrawls in Bajoran letters “Water and feed daily! Thought this would be fun (and quiet) for shapeshifting practice. Does it remind you of anyone? Have a nice day!” He scowls and crosses out the last sentence-- he doesn’t want to completely obscure that it’s him. The paper is now a bit crumpled from his pocket and messy-looking, but he’s pretty sure his handwriting is legible so he props it against the base of the plant, then leaves quickly before he can change his mind, sprinting down the corridor.

\----------------

“Ah ah, don’t tell me, you want a disgusting hu-man meal, what is it this time? O’Brien’s new favorite-- french fries and sweetbreads? Which I should tell you aren’t sweet or made of bread. Hu-mans,” Quark scoffs.

“Uuuh, nope I’m in the mood for fresh tube grubs today and a snail juice, extra smooth.”

Quark gives Rom an approving look and prepares the order.

“Do you ever give Leeta gifts? Like for her birthday or some Bajoran holiday or whatever?” Odo still hasn’t stopped by since morning, before Quark broke into his quarters, and the plant gift is weighing heavily on his mind.

“Leeta says every day with me is a gift, which is good because I gave away all my latinum when we got married. Buuut once she saved up all her tips for two months and bought herself lingerie made from Tholian silk, which was also a present for me, so...”

“ Lingerie ? Her buying herself clothing is a gift for you?? Isn’t it bad enough she wears clothes all the time in public, shouldn’t she at least be naked in the bedroom? Just because she earns more latinum than you--”

“Don’t even start brother! Leeta looked really sexy in the lingerie, and I’m proud of her for earning such great tips every night, she deserves to wear clothes whenever she wants!”

“If tips are so great, maybe I can reduce wages… Really Rom, if she can scrounge up enough to buy Tholian silk, she ought to help you fill out your own wardrobe, it’s embarrassing being seen with you sometimes.” Quark narrows his eyes at Rom. “Are you telling me… does she stay clothed while you two, ya know--” Quark gestures at Rom, not wanting to say it out loud.

“We have lots of oo-mox if that’s what you want to know.”

“Or… may the Blessed Exchequer have mercy, it’s bad enough you only wear that boring, cheap uniform every day, but don’t tell me you undress in front of her ??”

“Leeta says ‘our sex life is private, don’t share the details Rom’, buuut she also says ‘our relationship is based on equally enjoying each other’s company not on who earns profit’, buuut she also earns more profit than me so I like that she dresses so nicely…”

“Okay, fine. I don’t need to hear more of what Leeta says.” Quark scoffs. Inside his stomach flips, thinking about how maybe it was the way Moogie raised them, that even though she hadn’t worn clothing when they were kids something about her own deviance had still rubbed off on both Rom, with his Bajoran wife and limp Federation-corrupted lobes, and himself. He had spent his whole life trying to be a good Ferengi male, and trying to look out for his idiot deviant brother, but maybe they were both doomed from the beginning.

“Whaaaat about you and Odo?”

“What about him?” Quark snaps, too quickly.

“Does he get you presents?”

“Of course not. I earn profit, and I still have my dignity. He may not be female, but I’m still a Ferengi male so I would still be the one spending latinum on him,” Quark says indignantly. Then, quieter: “You know, if he were fe-male, and it wasn’t just sex. Which it isn’t.”

“Maybe if you spent latinum on him, he would know you wanted romance too.”

“Don’t be an idiot Rom, that’s not what I want.”

Rom, thankfully, gets the hint and starts chomping on his meal instead of bothering Quark further.

\--------------

Quark, not long after Rom leaves, dashes to his quarters. He finds his new bottle of Eau de Dung Beetle, and inhales deeply. The scent is rich and pungent, as it should be for the price he spent on it. Rom’s right, spending more latinum on Odo would help establish Quark as a profit-earning male, a way to regain some of the power he relinquishes every time Odo exposes Quark’s naked skin, and this is a thoughtful gift, too. Since Odo probably doesn’t know he smells too clean all the time (it’s offensive!) and cologne isn’t something he would ever think to buy for himself. Quark is loathe to give it up-- it had taken him a month to find a half decent supplier-- but if Odo wears it, Quark will be the one reaping the benefit anyway.

Quark checks Odo’s location and dashes over to leave the second present, this time one he had actually bought with hard-earned gold-pressed latinum, on Odo’s bathroom counter.

\-------------

Now creeping into the late evening hours, Odo still hasn’t come by since a brief check up that morning. Quark is mildly worried, but takes the opportunity to conduct a number of transactions he otherwise wouldn’t with Odo breathing down his neck (the Orions contacted him with a list of non-Syndicate black marketeers he could benefit to network with), until finally he hears:

“Quuuaaark!”

Quark’s stomach fills with flying beetles in excitement and his ears tingle in anticipation. Odo must have found his gifts! Odo is here to drag him off for the best oo-mox of his life and marvel at his thoughtfulness, and hmm he can probably get Morn to watch the bar if they end up in Quark’s bed for the rest of the night--

Once he sees Odo, however, his heart starts pounding in panic instead. Odo’s face is lopsided, dripping onto his torso, like a jumja stick that has been left to melt all day, and all of him is covered in an iridescent oily sheen. He also does not smell of dung beetle.

“Whatever it is I didn’t do it!” Quark squeaks out on instinct.

“Hmm well let me think,” Odo says sarcastically. “Who else do I know that would break into my quarters and leave an ugly Ferengi plant somehow trained to ambush me?”

“I… huh, it wasn’t supposed to do that.” Quark considers this, mind racing in panic. Biology was never his best subject-- ‘nature decays, but latinum lasts forever’ after all.

“I was attempting to take its form, but the ridges in the leaves were giving me difficulty, and when I finally got it right, the original plant sprayed me with this this-- gunk.” Odo waves an arm, and it stretches like slug taffy with the force of the gesture, whipping over his head, and oil flings off it to splatter a few customers nearby, who hurriedly run off.

“Oh right, I think I recall that they tend to be heh territorial. Maybe you shouldn’t have shifted nearby. But don’t let that challenge prevent you from pretending to be a solid--” Quark says, gesturing towards Odo’s drippiness.

“And! Dr. Bashir says the oil it sprayed dissolved into my chemistry. It should leak out on its own eventually, but in the meantime I’m left looking like this!” A giant bubble is now forming on the right side of his head, like an incredibly large zit.

“Well, uh think of this as an opportunity! Now you won’t have as much difficulty changing into the Lob-plink-lap or… or I bet you could do a more convincing giant snail leaving a slime trail!”

“Ah! You know what the plant is called! So you admit to sabotage and illicit dealings?”

“What?! No! It was an innocent gift. I was being... thoughtful. Probably a foreign concept to you, but don’t hold that against me.”

“You gave me a gift expecting nothing in return, with no benefit to you… a benefit like, for example, a bribe from Idanian traders to hold me up from conducting a proper investigation on their cargo ship, which I have strong suspicions are filled with all manner of illegal biohazards?”

“Ooohh heh. I… may have bought it from an Idanian, but it was a fair trade! Above table! I can show you receipts,” Quark bluffs. He does have the receipt, but trading a rare plant for surplus Cardassian food does look like an obvious cover for bribery now that he considers it.

“So maybe you knew I was planning to try out the holosuite program with Nerys tonight, and you wanted to sabotage our time together?” The bubble continues to swell, shiny with oil, and Quark isn’t sure if it would make Odo more mad to tell him about it or not.

“Hah, and why would I do that? I try to stay on good terms with station management.” That a date between Odo and Kira is ruined does perk Quark up a little bit, but he tries not to analyze that further.

“Really. What, you expect me to believe that you gave me this hideous plant just to brighten my day?” Odo attempts to cross his arms sternly, but they ooze and merge into each other which dulls the effect.

Quark is tired and has run out of clever responses, so all he can manage after this is a half-hearted shrug. He crosses his arms and tries to glower, but his bottom lip quivers and water pricks at the corner of his eyes.

“You’re making me regret not asking for a bribe.” The fact that the Idanian purposefully pulled one over on him, and that he didn’t get more out of the deal makes him feel dumb in addition to his conflicting emotions over Odo.

The left side of Odo’s face has now oozed down his oily torso, but the eye on the right side widens with realization, as if seeing Quark in a new light. Then the bubble on his head pops, spraying oily residue in the surrounding splash zone. There’s a general uproar in the bar, and even Morn shrugs his shoulders and leaves.

“I suppose you’re not going to reimburse me for lost business?” Quark says sullenly. The scowl reappears on Odo’s remaining face.

“Hmmph. Watch your back until I can prove malicious intent.” Odo oozes back out the door, his legs more like giant wobbly earthworms than humanoid appendages, leaving a trail of oil behind him.

\------------

“No good deed ever goes unpunished,” Quark recites under his breath, dark cloud looming overhead. His heart is heavy in his chest, like a pipe clogged with Fereginar’s winter mudslides.

See if he tries to do anything nice for Odo ever again. Nice , listen to that! Who even is he anymore? Quark sees himself as a people person, someone who likes people and who people like back, but nice has never been part of the equation before. Not someone who gives gifts to ungrateful security officers without it being a bribe, romantic intentions or not. Although, he supposes the gift _was_ a bribe, to get Odo to stay with him (to love him) to prove he was a valuable person to continue... "linking" with, but it doesn’t seem to have worked anyway. He feels dumb and really he shouldn’t have expected Odo to appreciate his efforts-- Odo has Kira to go on dates with and give him flowers or other things that don’t result in smuggling or lost profits-- but he did expect something, some appreciation or declaration about his worth to Odo, and it’s a familiar feeling, this aching with being let down, with having modest expectations dashed, but it still hurts.

(If he can’t even bribe effectively, what kind of Ferengi is he?)

\-------------------

“How do you know if you’re getting the better deal out of a sexual partnership?” Quark wonders outloud, idly wiping down the bar. “If they’re getting more out of using you or the other way around?”

“Sex isn't about deals or profit margins, it's not a business practice Quark.” Ezri grows still, using a carefully neutral tone.

Quark considers. “Life is a business practice, Ezri, and all relationships are based on exchange of services...or else you've learned nothing about Ferengi from knowing me by now.”

“Is our friendship good business?  You remember I beat you in Tongo the other day, consorting with me can hardly be a financial boon to you.”

"I guess." He frowns.

"Well, if you suddenly aren't getting as much out of our friendship as you wanted-- non-monetary benefits I mean-- you would talk to me right?"  Ezri says gently in the same careful tone.  "Because I care about you, as my friend, and I would want to make sure you feel... cared for."

"...if you want me to feel cared for, you could finally accept my offer to join me in the holonovel Vulcan Love--"

"Completely inappropriate timing Quark."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for under-negotiated consent?? It gets briefly uncomfortable before it gets better. Some not really explicit smut in this chapter.

The next morning Quark is listening to Morn complain about his complicated love life, and he’s trying to pay attention, because Morn can get pissy if he doesn’t, but he’s having trouble focusing. It’s then that Odo stops by again, presumably “healed” as he’s no longer dripping, his form more congealed and flesh-like than his usual rubbery look.

He grunts to get Quark’s attention, but Quark resolutely doesn’t look up. If he wants Quark’s attention, he’s going to have to work for it, because Quark is not in the mood.

“And then what happened with Lorrana? Did she end up leaving you for the Gorn after all?” Quark says loudly to Morn. Odo has now walked directly up to Quark, arms crossed, torso stretching over the bar so that his head is inches from Quark’s, and when Quark gets a strong whiff of rich, intoxicating dung beetle cologne, he can’t pretend to ignore him.

“Oh, Constable! Fancy seeing you here. If you spray gunk all over my bar again, I’m going to have to ban you from my establishment.” Quark means for this to be nonchalant, brushing Odo off, but his voice comes out breathy as he inhales the cologne. He didn’t realize Odo being _odorous_ would be such a turn on...

“Quark!  Come with me.” Odo says this in a low tone, directly in his ear, and despite there being no warm breath with it, the rumbling growl tickles Quark’s inner ear, sending a shiver down his spine, the cologne further overwhelming his senses. With a knowing smile on Odo’s face that unnerves Quark a bit-- does he know how smells can affect the libido?-- Odo slurps his torso back to normal, then turns around and walks briskly out the door without bothering to see if Quark is following him.

Quark, a bit dazed, curses under his breath, and scrambles after Odo, not saying goodbye to Morn who swivels on his stool to watch Quark go, holding his nose.

Quark follows Odo to the security office, where Odo shuts the door and locks it. Quark, his heart speeding up, gulps and stutters out, “What uh what did you want to know?  This is about the trader who sold me the plant?” and stubbornly resolves not to go along with whatever Odo has planned in this interrogation. Did Odo wear the cologne to seduce him into giving up information about the Idanian?

"I suppose this is about the plant, but it's not an interrogation."  Odo gestures with a finger, come closer, soft smile on his face. Quark finds his feet moving him towards Odo before his mind can tell him to stand his ground. Odo reaches up to caress the back of his lobes, gently.

“Wha-- I-- aaahhhh, I have a bar to run!  Ask me questions so I can make sure Morn isn't drinking my stock dry.” Quark’s heart pounds like thunderstorm rain, electricity in the air, and he whines in spite of himself, as Odo grips a bit tighter with an unexpected sharp pinch on the bottom lobe.

“Beware the man that doesn’t make time for oo-mox, is a warning I once heard,” Odo says bemused.

Quark gapes at him, unfairly turned by the quotation. Quark still has that ache in his chest, a small emptiness warning him that Odo is manipulating him, so as long as Odo needs to know about Bromalda, he'll keep touching him, so any resolve to hold out on Odo dissolves under those nimble fingers and whispered Rules.

“I have my reputation for discretion to uphold, my business contacts expect--” Quark protests weakly, but Odo starts kissing him, and Quark melts, kissing back feverishly, drinking in the attention Odo gives him with hunger.

“Shh shh, I only want to show you my appreciation, for the gifts-- I only just found the cologne, since I don't exactly use the bathroom in my quarters.  I can’t smell it, of course, but I remember you bragging about how much it costs at the bar a week ago, so I know it probably means a lot to you to give it to me.” Odo pulls away and moves to the clasps on Quark’s jacket, maintaining eye contact. “Okay?”

Quark gulps and nods, blood rushing in his ears, and Odo begins undressing him. His stomach clenches, _wrong wrong_ , and he’s feeling a bit too vulnerable today for this-- stupidity over the lost bribe money and inadequacy that Odo didn’t like the plant like he thought he would and concern that Odo is only using him to prevent law-breaking or catch criminals-- but this is a chance to be what Odo wants, this is a chance to be good for him, to be useful, and Quark desperately wants to be able to give Odo what he wants even if he’s probably using sex to extract information about the Idanian, and really it’s been too long with too many barriers of clothes between them and undressing is wrong he can’t be a fe-male companion for Odo but he wants to be good he could be so good--

“You’re breathing strangely, is that a normal response? You’re not allergic to your own cologne are you?  We can stop.” Odo says, pausing in the act of peeling off Quark’s shirt.

Quark becomes aware of his rapid shallow breathing, the air prickling at his skin, and he takes a couple of deliberate deep breaths. “Fine, I’m fine. What did you want to know specifically-- about the Idanian?” His voice comes out breathy, despite his efforts, and he cringes.

Odo, who has now pressed up against Quark, parts of his body liquefying and linking on contact with Quark’s skin, pulls back his head from kissing Quark’s neck to give him a funny look. “Any information you have would be useful, if that’s what you want to talk about, but I didn’t really think you knew anything.”

Quark gasps at the liquid contact, skin buzzing, stomach twisting _wrong_ , but all the blood in his body seems to be pounding through his lobes so really something has to be _right_ about it, and if this is what Odo wants he can do that for him. Odo oozes around the back of his torso, up over his shoulders, then trickles between the ridges on his lobes, just enough to have him begging for more.

“Hnnng oh great exchequer-- the Idanian’s name was Bromalda-- fffff right there that’s the spot don’t stop sweet latinum-- she referenced trading with Lissepians who-- ahhh! ahh-- knew Romulans who worked on Ferenginar but-- please more please odo uugh around the rim just like that,” Quark babbles, hoping that if he can give enough information for Odo’s investigation between moans and pleas then Odo will keep going, “--she had a broken down Bok’Nor type ship which is weird because-- no no harder oooh guuuhhhh-- because she’s the one that suggested a trade for-- sweet profits keep going-- my surplus Cardassian food--”

Quark’s skin, overstimulated by Odo-goo reflecting his electric pleasure back at him, pulls tight and his heart catches in his throat as with a gasp his orgasm flows over him, gushing, and after a moment in Odo’s goo-arms, he stumbles back onto one of the security office chairs. He would be embarrassed at how quickly he came, if he could think clearly. “Buuuuh.”

After holding Quark up, Odo snaps back into his regular solid form with a squelch, immediately switching to security officer mode. “So she’s headed to trade with Cardassians next? And she wanted food, which means one of the barren outer worlds or… the DMZ…”

“Huh, what? Odo, was I good? Was that good?” Quark says in a daze, cringing at how needy the words sound after they leave his mouth.

Odo stops his speculation for a moment to smile indulgently at Quark. He puts a hand on Quark’s cheek, tilting his head up, and kisses his forehead. “You were wonderful, on all accounts. Also, thanks to you I have enough clues to find her, so I must be off before she gains any more distance.”

Quark reaches up automatically to grip Odo’s hand on his cheek, holding it in place as Odo starts to pull away. Quark is proud that he could be what Odo wanted, but distantly ashamed all it took was a little (mind-blowing) oo-mox and a gift he bought for Odo for Quark to let slip information about what could have been a good smuggling relationship. He feels exposed, a bit cheated, and his skin twitches from loss of contact.

Odo tilts his head in question, face becoming a little gooey with sentiment, but he is clearly impatient to continue the investigation, so Quark squeezes Odo’s hand once and with a nod dismisses him.

“Planning to scare away customers at my bar later?” Quark says hopefully.

Odo wraps him up in a stiff hug, and some of Quark’s tight-skin-feeling melts away. Tears prick at his eyes with the relief, but he hides that before Odo sees.

“Later.” Then with an incline of the head and a soft smile, Odo is gone.

\-----------------

Quark continues his day, quieter than usual, the uncomfortable twitchy skin feeling assuaged slightly by sense memories of Odo’s hand on his cheek, that last kiss on his forehead, as well as the scent of the cologne lingering under his nose. Out of the corner of his eye he sees various customers pointing at him and whispering “look!”, but when he turns to face them, they immediately look away with stifled giggles behind their hands. He feels around on his upper back for a “kick me!” sign, but there doesn’t seem to be one. Maybe he’s imagining it, that everyone knows he was undressed, that he enjoys debasing himself, and for that uptight changeling, of all people. Quark keeps patting down the front of his outfit to make sure that yes, he’s wearing his jacket and his waistcoat and the formal shirt…

Just as Quark is working himself up into a bit of a tizzy, Odo saunters in, arms crossed surveying activities across the establishment. When he spots Quark he gives a nod, eyes gliding past, then whips his head back around, a double take.  Looking at Quark he lets out a fond chuckle, the amusement reverberating through him briefly until he resolidifies. He gestures for Quark to stay put, then walks over to him, behind the bar.

Quark’s breath catches in his throat, as Odo enters his personal space, and reaches around him. He can feel idle eyes at the bar watching them, and when Odo pulls on the back of his coat Quark’s stomach falls in panic-- _is he undressing him in public?_

“What are you doing?!” Quark squawks, through gritted teeth. Odo chuckles again, then smooths the front of Quark’s jacket. Quark tenses under his touch and twitches slightly, remembering not that long ago, half-naked in Odo’s office gasping in pleasure, and very aware that Odo knows what he looks like under his clothes, and paranoid that by proxy now everyone in the bar will know too. Odo steps back, his hands up in surrender as he realizes Quark was bothered by the action.

“Your coattail was tucked into your pants.” Odo says, both eyebrows raised, looking at Quark oddly. Quark feels the heat rise in his cheeks, realizing that was why people kept looking at him funny.

“Rom why didn’t you say anything?” Quark redirects his embarrassment into lashing out at his brother.

Rom has been watching them from the stool at the bar, fork stalled halfway up to his gaping mouth. His eyes dart between the two of them as if trying to figure out what just happened. “Uuhh I thought it was a new look?” Morn sitting next to Rom at the bar shrugs.

“Why aren’t you out destroying my business reputation?” Quark refocuses on Odo.

“I was kicked off the Defiant for, and I quote, ‘smelling like a pile of targ manure’. Kira and Worf went without me, because, and again this is a quotation, ‘that stench would carry through the vacuum of space and the entire DMZ will know we’re arriving when we get within 100 clicks’. You’ve managed to sabotage my investigation again!  I had a chance to take down a whole smuggling ring associated with Cardassian terrorist activities, but apparently humanoids react much more strongly to smell than I have any reason to know. Congratulations, you’ve given me the two exact worst gifts possible. You win!” Odo’s voice is lighter, more amused than his words let on by themselves.

“...but Kira and Worf will still take down the smuggling ring? Because of me?” Quark is horrified. It’s his fault that a potential new market is being closed down, and before he even had a chance to profit from it. (But...he’s also relieved, in that Cardassian terrorists would be particularly dangerous business partners anyway.)

Odo cocks his head, looking a bit like a large bird. “Yes, and I have you to thank for that.”

“And I suppose you’re not going to follow up that appreciation with latinum?” Quark grumbles.

“Consider your recompense me not holding you accountable for accidental bribery, hindering an investigation, or trading with smugglers.”

If Quark had been discreet, let Odo stay distracted by the plant messing with his chemistry, the Idanian may have been back with other opportunities. He had given Odo the information in exchange for (damn good) oo-mox, which should ease the guilt somewhat by being a investment in future oo-mox from Odo, but right now, strangely, this doesn’t sit right with him.  It feels unbalanced; whatever Odo wants from him, Quark definitely draws the line at lost profits.

“Odo, I can’t--” Quark looks around and pulls Odo by the shoulder to a quiet area of the bar. His stomach clenches with nerves, because saying this could mean Odo won't want anything more to do with him. He continues, voice low and tense. “I will not sacrifice my business opportunities again just because you can stroke my lobes in a particular way. I won’t put my profits on the line to prop up your demented brand of justice, so if that’s what you’re having sex with me for, I won’t do it. Not anymore.”

Odo sloshes as he pulls his head back in bewilderment, bug-eyed. “Are you drunk on the job? You must be a bigger idiot than your brother.”

“So you blame your failures at this investigation on my extravagant and well-intentioned gifts… Then the next time you want to see me we have sex for no other reason than that you want to have sex with me? No strings attached?  No connection to your investigation?” Quark says, disbelieving, his arms crossed.

Odo’s face droops, and he tentatively puts a hand on Quark’s shoulder. “Quark, I told you,” he says, voice thick, “I wanted to show you how much I appreciate the effort you put into trying to give me gifts, even though I have no idea why you thought they were necessary.”

“So you did like them?” Quark blinks up at him, skeptical.

“They were terrible and ruined my week. I had to sit in a tub all yesterday, while the oil expelled from my system, and today I had to take a sonic shower for three hours before I could be reasonably sure the cologne washed off.”

“Oh.” Quark deflates, crushed.  "I guess it's good you don't actually have a birthday."

Odo tilts his head sharply, surprised.  "It never really occurred to me.  But that's not all you gave me-- instead of catching one Idanian trader with illegal goods, we can now take down the entire smuggling ring. Plus now I have physical proof you’re sometimes capable of attempting to be something other than completely self-serving, even if you still fail miserably at it.” Odo says, sardonic smile twitching at his lips.

“Oh!” Quark says, deeply touched. “In that case, if you come back with me to my quarters, I have another self-serving gift that might make up for ruining your week.”

“Quark look at me,” Odo says gently. “If anything-- and this the only time you’ll hear me admit this-- _I'm_ the one that owes _you_ , but our relationship isn’t one of your convoluted budgeting spreadsheets. It doesn’t rely on a tedious balancing act.”

“Lucky for you, since you don’t have the lobes for finance that I do.” Quark stares at him, also now coming to some realizations of his own. Then he sighs-- may as well rip off all the bandaids at once. “But you still need to know I’m not going to stop pursuing profit because you think it’s illegal, not even for the best oo-mox in the galaxy.”

Odo scoffs. “I’ve been ordering you to _stop breaking the law_ since we met, so that’s not going to change either.” He pauses then says, softer, “However, I will never hold our personal relationship hostage to get you to comply, if that’s what you mean. I’m a much more talented security officer than that.”

“A security officer that still hasn’t managed his life goal of locking me up for good,” Quark snipes back. He relaxes and says softly, “Good.”

“And,” Odo continues, “I need you to promise not to cause trouble specifically to get my attention or because you think I’ll let you get away with it.”

“Of course. You can’t ask me to stop being me, and I won’t ask the same of you.”

“Well I’m glad that’s settled then.”

“What are you getting out of this anyway?”

“ _You_ , Quark.”

“Oh.” Quark scrunches his nose, skeptical.

“I mean it. Whatever this is between us is important to me. Don’t ask me to explain why, but I don't care about you for your sad attempts at petty crime, not for your nonexistent piles of latinum or for the moon you have delusions of owning one day may the prophets help us all or even for your frankly horrifying attempts at gifts--”

“Hey!” Quark says indignantly.

“But my relationship with Nerys or anyone else is never going to replace our relationship. I’ve never met someone who could irritate me half as well as you.”

Quark huffs indignantly, but his mouth twitches with a restrained grin. “Okay enough of this sappy talk, you’re only embarrassing yourself. Put those fake lips to better use; I have just the thing.”

“I think you said something about ‘best oo-mox in the galaxy’? Hrrmph. I guess I don’t have to ask what benefit you get from this then.”

“The _potential_ for best oo-mox in the galaxy. Don’t go showing your hand before the tongo wheel spins, it's bad form.”

\-----------

Back at Quark’s quarters, Quark gives Odo a final gift.

“ _Oo-mox For Fun and Profit_? ” Odo says insulted, holding the PADD as if it might electrocute him. “Have I been doing it wrong this whole time? Or have you not been experiencing the best orgasms you’ve ever had?”

“Let’s just say that practice makes perfect. You’re lucky I’m a patient man, willing to forgive the clumsiness of an uptight prude with liquid lobes.”

“Well since I assume you’re terrible at teaching, we’ll have to start my education immediately. This could take all night.” Odo says, deadpan.

“First technique we’ll try is the Tympanic Tickle…”


	4. Epilogue

Many experimental, pleasure-filled hours later, they’re wrapped up in each other in Quark’s bed. Quark is snoring away, naked under a blanket, his arms wrapped around a puddle of Odo goo.

“The time is 0700. Wake up, the time is 0700.” The computer chimes.

Odo hurriedly resolidifies, sitting up, and Quark snorts, half-conscious and grumpy, before awakening with a start, twisting up in the blankets and landing in a heap off the bed.

“You’re such a bed hog.” He mumbles blearily, muffled beneath the pile of blankets, before realizing he again undressed himself for Odo and forgot to put on pajamas afterwards. “Uhh, could you turn around while I change?”

Odo’s eyebrows raise, concerned, but he turns his back to Quark. There’s a silence while Quark prepares for the day. Quark’s heart thumps a bit harder knowing that Odo could turn around at any second and see him, but, relaxed from cuddling all night, it’s thrilling in a fun way rather than an anxious way.

“I still do not understand the humanoid preoccupation with clothing.” Odo breaks the silence.

“With that boring beige sack of a suit? I’m not surprised.”

“Not fashion--”

“The clothes make the man-- it’s about the image you present to the world. My fancy suits-- I’m a very sharp dresser-- project that I am a man of means, a man with profit--”

“But you don’t _make_ much profit,” Odo says teasing.

“Well, the lobes for the _potential_ to make profit. No need to rub it in.”

“Do you see me as less of a... ‘man’ because I project this uniform?”

Quark scoffs. “I think less of everyone who isn’t Ferengi. But I only think less of you for being a law-obsessed fascist, the uniform represents that is all.”

“At least with a uniform I never have to think much about it.”

“It’s like trying to explain why females and finances don’t mix-- some things just _are_.” Quark considers, buttoning his jacket. “Well I presume you did your melting thing after I fell asleep, and now you’re solid before I woke up. But, you were okay being goo while we were having sex? Anyway, that’s probably the most similar comparison, except Ferengi males have no need or desire to be naked during sex. You can turn around now.”

Odo upon facing him is approximating doubtful confusion, likely remembering how he’s definitely seen Quark naked during sex.

Quark blushes and tries to cover up his discomfort in discussing why as a Ferengi male, he took off his clothes last night, in addition to all the other times with Odo, so jokes around the issue. There are some things one isn’t _supposed_ to talk about. “For one, the Ferengi breeding clothes industry would plummet!”

“Breeding clothes? I take it back, I don’t want to know.” Odo says, utterly bewildered.

Quark lets out a nervous chuckle, then twists his face, another horrible thought resurfacing. “I’ve only known you to be interested in fe-males before…”

“I also have long accepted I will not understand the humanoid preoccupation with gender. From my perspective, it’s a set of unnecessary distinctions based on an arbitrary combination of antiquated tradition, biological markers, and personal identities, none of which pertain to me. I don’t presume to know or care what anyone’s gender is past that because it’s important to humanoids it could therefore impact an investigation.”

“The very tip of the iceberg of what you don’t understand about humanoids,” Quark says warily, shifting his weight with nerves. “I’ve never been naked in front of anyone before. Not as an adult of course.” He whispers this, as if saying it louder would make it more true.

“Never?” Odo is taken aback, still not sure why this is a big deal, but recognizing this is a meaningful admission for Quark to make to him.

“Even though I’m unclothed”-- Quark says this word almost inaudibly-- “with you, that doesn’t mean I’m fe-male. I earn enough profit to buy myself a fashionable wardrobe, for one. And even if you did eat, I would never chew your food for you.”

“If you call that fashion… Even if I don’t understand, I recognize you see yourself as male.”

“I’m just saying if Kira isn’t suiting all your needs, I’m not going to be a substitute for you being unable to attract another fe-male.”

“I could certainly attract another fe-male, just ask Vic I'm a natural. Quark…” Odo says, starting to realize where this is coming from. He makes an admission of his own, to show he’s taking Quark’s seriously. “I haven’t shapeshifted at a party, especially for entertainment, since I was with Dr Mora, and I certainly never enjoyed everyone gawking at me like a party gag before. I don’t even like parties when I'm not on display--”

“Because you wouldn't recognize fun if it bit you on the ass.”

“--but I did like performing for you at Vic’s valentine party.”

“I’m your bally-tine, right?” Quark asks, less of a self-conscious question and more of an assurance to himself. “You love me.”

“Is your mouth a little weak?” Odo starts to sing with a teasing smile. “When you open it to speak are you smart?”

Quark looks at him vaguely insulted, arms crossed, but inside there’s the feeling of a late afternoon steady rain on Ferenginar-- comforting pitter patter on the roof, damp air pleasantly hugging the skin, and all around the feeling of home. He smiles.

“But don't change a hair for me. Not if you care for me, stay little valentine stay.”


End file.
